


A Date for Dinner

by the5leggedCricket



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Epistolary, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5leggedCricket/pseuds/the5leggedCricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time Uther has gone too far. With the help of Morgana and a ridiculous advertisement, Arthur finds the perfect revenge: a pretend boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://the5leggedcricket.tumblr.com/post/118522099816/janewithawhy-imagine-your-otp#notes) post.
> 
> Again many thanks to [ambrosius](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ambrosius) for the beta.

Arthur took a deep breath before buzzing the doorbell. He had a vague idea of why his father had asked him for dinner on a Friday in the middle of November, but even then dinners with Uther could hardly be called pleasant. They never were.

The door was unlocked, and at the sight of his father standing in his Armani suit in the hallway, the dread sunk even further into his stomach. Uther might not do “casual,” but Armani was a bit much for a relaxed family dinner, even for him.

“Arthur,” his father said, sounding stern as ever. “Come in.”

Arthur straightened his tie—he was still in his working clothes, having come straight from the office—and stepped inside, making for the dining room without hesitation. He rarely went to the living room anymore, aside from the regular “first Saturday of the month” gatherings. That was for family matters while the dining room was for business. Arthur had no doubts about what would be discussed this evening.

Lately, Uther had been dropping hints that he would be retiring soon. Unwillingly, of course, because Pendragons worked till they dropped dead, even if Uther’s doctor warned him that that was exactly what would happen if he didn’t step down immediately. He’d already had one heart attack and he wouldn’t be likely to survive another one. Arthur, who had been groomed all his life to take over the company one day, expected that his father would be ready to hand over the reigns. He’d dedicated his best years to the company to become the best employee of the firm. There were few who put in as many hours and had such good figures month after month as Arthur had. He was ready to accept the ultimate responsibility and become CEO now that his father was stepping down.

It was one of the only reasons why he had readily accepted coming tonight. The other reason being that he never said no to his father. It just wouldn’t do. Nobody opposed Uther’s will and got away with it. Least of all Arthur.

To his surprise, Catrina and Vivian were both sitting at the big, oval table when he entered the dining room.

Even though Catrina had been Uther’s wife for 5 years now neither she nor her daughter Vivian ever took part in the family dinners. Catrina and Vivian seemed to hate Arthur and Morgana even more than the two of them combined.They often did everything in their power to avoid the Pendragon siblings, which mainly consisted of them going on spa weekends.

“Where’s Morgana?” Arthur asked his father, who was seating himself at the head of the table.

The bell rung as soon as the words left Arthur’s mouth. “That would be her,” Uther said and got up again.

Arthur sat down opposite Catrina, ignoring her fake botox smile and beady eyes. She made a more convincing Umbridge than Imelda Staunton ever could. (He’d looked up her name after Morgana first made the comparison. It was their favourite nickname for her now.) The smile became even more strained when Morgana entered and took the chair next to Arthur’s.

Catrina took Uther’s hand in hers and smiled sweetly at him. To Arthur’s great disturbance, Uther reciprocated happily.

Morgana lifted her brow disapprovingly, sharing a look of disbelief with Arthur, and scratched her throat. Uther turned his attention back to them with a dazed expression on his face. “Oh, yes, I– _We_ have important news.”

The help came out of the kitchen and served everyone their dinner.

“It smells delicious. Well done, Uther,” Catrina said, as if he’d lowered himself and actually cooked their meal with his own two hands. Once Vivian chimed in, Arthur was feeling nauseated by their exaggerated praise.

Arthur and Morgana both knew that prompting Uther to share the news now wouldn’t help, so they waited and tried to enjoy the meal. Though it was a bit hard with Vivian continually praising Uther on the wonderful pork.

Catrina and Vivian’s presence had thrown him off guard, and he wasn’t too sure anymore about why they were summoned here. It couldn’t be worse than when Uther cleared his schedule to be present at Vivian’s graduation ceremony, when he hadn’t even done that for his own children. Or especially the time that Uther announced he had gifted Ygraine’s painting room to Vivian to do with as she pleased. It was about the only thing that Arthur and Morgana had left of their mother and Uther giving it to his new stepdaughter as if it was nothing had been a low blow. Morgana hadn’t spoken to Uther for weeks after that.

By the time dinner was over, Arthur had steeled himself for a worst-case scenario. Even Morgana was unusually quiet, which was a sure sign of her uncertainty. Anything involving those two meant trouble, Arthur knew from experience.

Uther folded his hands over each other, emitting an air of control and composure. “Catrina and I are expecting our first child.”

“You can’t be serious!” Morgana leaned forward, stabbing her finger in the air. “You are 62, Uther. Catrina is…surely pushing 50.” Catrina made an undignified noise at that. “You’re both too old to have any children! And even if you weren’t… A _child_? With _C_ _atrina_?”

A vein was throbbing in his temple as Uther stood up. He looked as if he was a moment from slamming his hands on the table, hard enough to make the silverware rattle. “Enough! You will show some respect to Catrina and seize your shouting. This is even more proof that I need an heir, because the two of you certainly aren’t fit for that role. Your behaviour is childish, and frankly, I’m disappointed. I thought that you would grow out of your antics, especially you, Morgana, now that you’re married, but it seems that Catrina was right.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. What was Uther saying? He couldn’t be disinheriting them, surely. But the very principles of what he’d grown up to believe in were crumbling beneath his feet. Arthur was the heir that Uther was supposed to be proud of, the one to continue the Pendragon line. Morgana had fights with Uther before, even Arthur had gotten into a row with the man three or four times, but Uther had never stated things so boldly. Even when Arthur seemed to be a continuous disappointment, unable to live up to his father’s expectations, he’d always assumed things would turn out right in the end.

He stared at his father, trying to read his face to understand how serious he was being. Was Arthur being replaced? By a child of that witch?

“Get out.” Uther’s tone was unforgiving.

“Gladly,” Morgana said, crumpling her napkin and throwing it on her empty plate. “Wouldn’t want to upset your wife, now would I?”

The legs of her chair screeched as they dragged over the floor and Arthur winced at the sound before looking one last time, pleadingly, at his father. Uther looked back coldly.

Without another word, Arthur got up as well, and followed Morgana through the door, disappointment and hurt weighing him down, making his steps heavy on the gravel. The automatic _beep beep_ as he unlocked his car only seemed to make things more final.

Morgana was already slamming her door shut and speeding off before he got in. Arthur knew that calling her or trying to speak to her right now wouldn’t help one ounce, so he didn’t. Once she’d worked through her anger on her own, she’d contact him. Probably with some plan of revenge.

*

And, true to form, on Monday he found an email in his inbox.

 **From:** morgana.p@nimueh.org.uk  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** Dinner plans

_I’d hire him myself, but I’m married. You do it._

 

Morgana had a tendency to hang around in dark corners of the internet, especially when she was upset. Given her anger at the pregnancy, Arthur opened the attachment with a healthy dose of apprehension.

It was a printscreen of a blog or something or other.

**_Angry at your family? Date me!_ **

_I’m a 28 year old with no high school degree and a loud, rusty bike that I drive everywhere. I am, of course, devilishly handsome and have the roguish look down pat complete with a scruffy beard. Currently, I am something of a job-hopper, mostly working as a bartender in pubs. If you’d like me to be your platonic date, but pretend as if I’m in a committed, serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game._

_I can do these things, at your request:_

_\-        Openly hit on other guests (both male and female) while you act like you don’t notice_

_\-        Start heated discussions about politics_

_\-        Make tasteless jokes and behave like a pig in general_

_\-        Propose to you in front of everyone_

_\-        Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on_

_\-        Start a fight with a family member, very publicly, for all the neighbours to see_

_I require no pay but the free food and alcohol I will receive as a guest, and the hilarity of seeing your enraged family members!_

With a huff, Arthur sat back in his chair. Where had Morgana found this? As if Arthur would react to such an advert! Sure, he might be hurt, as even Uther had never managed before, and feeling betrayed and abandoned, but this was taking things a step too far. It would be as efficient in ruining the remnants of their relationship as a calligraphed declaration of war. And he was not ready for that yet. Uther was just being manipulated by the two serpents. He’d find his right mind again. Arthur just had to believe in that because what else had he been fighting for all this time, if there was no affection left to be gained anymore? It’d mean everything had been pointless, and he just couldn’t handle that. He clicked the email away but didn’t delete it. He’d do it tomorrow, or the day after.

*

The week that followed was long, tedious, and brought yet another invite of his father, this time for dinner on Thursday. Arthur found himself in front of Uther’s house once more and wishing it was the weekend. This was the second visit in two weeks, a sad record, made worse by the fact that Catrina and Vivian were also there. Again.

“Is Morgana coming?”

“No. We thought it best she were not here. She’d only upset Catrina more.”

Rolling his shoulder to work out the tension that was already creeping in, Arthur leaned back in his chair. “What is it?”

Arthur noticed that the table was not set. Uther clearly intended this to be a short visit. There was another workday tomorrow, after all.

“I have decided to step down as CEO of Pendragon Industries, and I have appointed Vivian as my successor.”

That wasn’t unexp— “Wait. _What?_ ”

“She has the qualifications needed and enough working experience in the company. Tomorrow there will be a vote, but I’m confident everyone will agree with me. Vivian is the perfect candidate.” Sure, Vivian wasn’t dumb, but she hadn’t worked all her life towards this goal like Arthur had. She hadn’t even done her utmost best for the few, meager years she’d worked at the firm.

“And what about me?” Hadn’t Arthur given up enough? His personal life, his chances on a relationship, all his free time? His wish to study Literature and become a writer? His _everything_?

“You aren’t ready, Arthur. As I said, your efforts have been disappointing. We don’t think you’re mature enough to take over Pendragon Industries.” Not ready? Disappointing? How exactly had he shown that he wasn’t _mature_ enough? How could Uther _do_ this? “But I’m sure that Vivian will gladly keep you on as the Head of Sales. Don’t worry, Arthur, your position should be secure.” If only because she knew that even she couldn’t get away with firing Arthur. Although he wasn’t too sure about that anymore. If the two of them could get Uther to bypass his son, what _weren’t_ they capable of?

This was worse than everything so far and they knew it. He’d lived and breathed for the company, and now they’d gone and ripped it right out of his hands. His whole future gone in an instant. He really was being replaced. First, a new child to carry on the family name and honour of the Pendragons, erasing his past now that they had a child to write a new present, and now this. He felt himself fading entirely away from his father’s mind and life. Arthur no longer held any importance to him. What he hadn’t given Uther, his new children could.

A puppet. That was all that he had been. A puppet guided by Uther to grow up in his image and now his strings were cut through. He was being thrown away for a newer, shinier toy. Catrina. Vivian. The baby. He’d never felt more worthless.

He stood up, testing out his legs now that he was without support. “I’ve gotta go.”

Uther didn’t protest, and Catrina whispered something in his ear. Arthur didn’t wait around to see her triumphant look or Vivian’s cheshire grin. He’d seen enough.

*

Not showing up for work and starting his weekend early, sounded like a great plan. So did getting absolutely hammered.

Morgana seemed to think otherwise. On Saturday she stormed into his apartment, demanding to know what the hell was going on. Arthur didn’t remember what he said, but it must have been sufficient because she looked angry and then pitiful. She shoved him into a cold shower, and, after having made sure he hadn’t drowned and made it back out safely, she disappeared so he could unashamedly wallow in self-pity without any witnesses. When he woke up, it was to an apartment emptied of any and all alcohol. Even that girly peach drink that he’d hidden in the back of his cabinet.

So that night he pulled on his tightest black jeans, a deep blue shirt that brought out his eyes, and carefully arranged his hair in a nonchalant disarray. A few sprays of perfume, wallet in his back pocket, and he was ready to let someone make him forget about the disaster called “family.”

 _The Dragon’s Den_ was one of the more obscure gay bars in town, but in the more well-known establishments there’d be a crowd of twinks. At the moment, Arthur really couldn’t handle being amidst young people, some of whom still hadn’t lost all of their baby-fat. The audience here might have been older, but was no less gay or willing to shag, which was exactly what Arthur needed. He walked up to the bar and leaned against it to take in everyone. There wasn’t a lot of people, but a considerable portion of them were already grinding against each other or making filthy motions on the beat of the music. Things were looking promising.

Arthur turned back towards the bartender. “Vodka, please.”

“On me,” the man next to him yelled. He winked at Arthur, before raking his eyes over him. He nodded approvingly before sliding the now-filled glass towards him. Well, Arthur wasn’t about to say no. The man was definitely attractive enough for what he had in mind. He could probably even be gorgeous after a couple of shots.

“Cheers!” Arthur shouted, lifting his glass and downing it in one gulp. He motioned the empty glass towards the bartender. “Another one!”

The man sidled closer towards him, putting his mouth against his ear. “What’s your name, beauty?”

“Arthur.” He put a hand on the man’s biceps. “Yours?”

“Cenred.”

Arthur threw Cenred a toothy smile and drained two more shots in quick succession. “Wanna fuck?”

Cenred squeezed his arse. Arthur took that as an affirmative and headed towards the loos, Cenred quickly following behind him.

There were two men at the urinals, but Arthur ignored them. He pulled Cenred into an empty stall and shoved him against the door.

Cenred’s chest was hot under his and Arthur wanted that warmth for himself. He wrestled his shirt out of his trousers and worked his hand under the wrinkled cloth to take it off. He lifted his shirt over his head, wrapping it around Cenred’s waist, pulling him closer, before fumbling with his own zipper.

Cenred pushed their lips together in a bruising kiss, groaning in Arthur’s mouth when he started fumbling with the buttons on Cenred’s trousers. There were too many of them. He pulled his mouth away from the slickness of Cenred and mumbled, “Can’t get them open.”

Cenred batted his hands away from where they were now desperately clutching at his crotch. “Fuck. Let me do it.”

Arthur obeyed, and in no time Cenred’s trousers were shoved down. They were both standing with their pants stuck at their knees.

Too impatient for anything else, Arthur grabbed a few condoms from his trouser pocket that he had snagged for the night and put a condom on both of their cocks. He took them both in the tight grip of his hand and fucked his cock against Cenred’s, fingers massaging them all the while. Cenred’s mouth was back on his, sucking Arthur’s tongue in that welcoming space, teeth nipping lightly.

Arthur didn’t last long, too high on alcohol and testosterone to even try and draw the moment out. He rubbed the head of his cock against Cenred’s, fingers forming a tight cage around them, and spurt into his condom.

Cenred’s tongue went slack in his mouth, undoing the tangle it was in, and put his hand over Arthur’s, keeping it on his cock. He fucked into Arthur’s fist, hips banging against the door with every movement, eyes closing as he came.

Panting, Arthur leaned back and pulled of his condom, throwing it in the toilet and flushing it down after Cenred had done the same.

They straightened their clothes, nodded at each other, and unlocked the door. Arthur left the stall first, heading straight towards the exit.

When he got home, he spotted his laptop standing on the kitchen table. By now the hurt had turned into something else, something more. He was filled with a loathing for his father that tasted sour in his mouth, beneath the dull stench of vodka and Cenred’s gin-tonic.

The quick and dirty shag hadn’t helped to take his mind of things. Instead, it had strengthened a resolve that matched Morgana’s. A promise of revenge and war.

He rolled the word around in his mouth, trying it out. “War.” It felt good and a smile crept up his face. “War it is.”

Arthur grabbed the laptop and went to his inbox. There it was: the bloke’s ad. His pretend boyfriend.

*

By Monday, he had cheered up considerably, even though every smug expression of Vivian—and since when did she need to be in his department so often?—made him feel a little bit more nauseated. But as soon as the clock struck 4, he fled the office. The entire drive home he spent fantasising about Uther’s face when he would see Arthur hand in hand with a man. Morgana was right. Revenge felt good. He hadn’t even gotten his yet, but he was already overcome with a feeling of triumph.

When he got home he realized that his door was unlocked. Speak of the devil… “Morgana?”

“In here,” she called back from the kitchen. A mouth-watering smell drifted through the hallway. Sometimes his sister wasn’t entirely useless. A harpy, yes, but a good-natured one at that.

“What’re you making?”

He toed off his shoes and entered the spacious kitchen. Morgana was standing behind three small pots.

She waved at him with the spatula when he tried to come closer. “Be a sweetheart and set the table. Just for some fried eggs with sausages and mashed potatoes.”

Arthur did as she asked and changed his suit for something more comfortable after. He leaned against the wall once he made his way back to the kitchen, watching as Morgana filled their plates.

“How’d you know I’d be home early?”

Morgana sounded angered when she answered. “Uther called, demanding he know where you were. I told him where to shove it.”

Ah yes, Morgana was never afraid to speak her mind and somehow she always got away with it. Though it probably had something to do with her striking resemblance to Ygraine since Uther had never quite gotten over her. Which might be the reason as to why Arthur would always come second. Or third. Or fourth, with the new baby. Because he was seen as her murderer, killing her in childbirth.

“Thanks, Morgana. Appreciate it.”

That didn’t mean he wanted to have the conversation that she so clearly intend on. He was absolutely knackered, the silent battle with Vivian having left him exhausted mentally.

“Arthur—”

“Not now, Morgana.”

“You’re not going to let this happen, are you?” she asked, fierce as ever. Leon, her fiancé, might have tamed her a bit, but her fury was still easily invoked. Especially when it came to Uther.

“What can I do?” At this she fell silent, pondering.

In the end, she sighed, and her shoulders fell. “I don’t know. But he can’t do this!”

“You’ll find that he can. He’s the CEO, major shareholder… He has the whole board eating out of his hand, ‘Gana. No one’s going to deny him this. And I hate to admit it, but Vivian’s not entirely useless. She might actually pull this off.”

“Arthur,” she said with so much tenderness that Arthur wanted to curl up in her arms and cry. He nearly did.

“I emailed the bloke, and he said yes. I’m going to bring him as my date to the monthly dinner.”

She looked up in surprise, her fork stopping abruptly before her open mouth.

“You did?” A short laugh burst from her, then. “Well done, brother. I’m proud of you. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Arthur sent a tentative smile her way. The compliment and the revenge he’d soon get, would make it worth it when the shit hit the fan.

*

 **From:** lookatmeivegotshinyhair@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** RE: RE: Advertisement

_hey mate_

_im really sorry but something happened and i cant make it. i know i said yes and i wouldve loved to come but this is priority with capital p. sorry to let you down like that_

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** lookatmeivegotshinyhair@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** RE: RE: Advertisement

_Dear Gwaine,_

_I don’t normally do this_ _–_ _I respect the fact that you have Priorities_ _–_ _but I’m going to set my dignity aside for a moment and beg you. I already said I’m going to be bringing a date, and showing up without one would be the ultimate humiliation at this stage._

_I’m willing to compensate you for your time and services. Just name your price._

_Greetings,  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** lookatmeivegotshinyhair@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** RE: RE: RE: Advertisement

_so ive got this friend whod be willing to do it for fifty quid. if youre interested i can give you his address so you can settle on the details with him_

*

“Just so you know, I don’t approve of this.”

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, thanks, Merlin.”

What a name and what a man. He was perfect for the role. His name was as ridiculous as his crumpled clothes—a green shirt with red trousers that were too short at that—and he had a bit of a beard that did nothing to make him look older than 23. He’d ensured that he was, in fact, 27, and a newly promoted scientist, but Uther didn’t need to know that. He’d take one look at Merlin and think Arthur was getting off with an underage beggar (but, to be honest, everyone who didn’t wear a £500 suit and a rolex was a beggar in Uther’s eyes). If he could see past the fact that Merlin was a man, that was.

“We’re expected there in an hour, so that gives us enough time to go over the story one more time.”

Merlin sighed and rattled off everything Arthur had emailed him. “We met each other 3 months ago in the park where you were jogging and I was painting. Seriously, I can’t do anything artsy for the life of me. You better hope he doesn’t ask me to draw anything.”

“Why would he do that, Merlin? Just keep going.”

“We started talking, exchanged phone numbers, and next thing you know, we’re dating, and I’m asking to meet your parents. I would take you to mine, but, alas, my mother is dead and I never knew my father. Arthur, honestly, do you have any idea how horrible that makes me feel? If my parents knew…”

“But they won’t and Uther hates bastard children. Continue.”

“I feel strongly about politics, love the Labour Party, hate the Tories, and basically stand for everything your father hates. I go to rallies for LGBTQ+ rights, want democracy for everyone, even immigrants… Oh, but I’m not aware that this just so happens to be everything he is against, and want to be the perfect future son-in-law.” Merlin makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.

“Perfect!” Arthur claps his hands together and rubs them in glee. “He’s going to be furious. Chances are you’re not even going to have to tell or do half of these things, because he’ll be fuming about the gay part.”

Merlin shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Why did I let Gwaine talk me into this? This is horrid. Why would you do that to your own father?”

Arthur ignored the sudden pang of shame and fear in his gut. “It’s only the one time. Be glad. After this dinner, you’ll never have to see me again.”

Merlin muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Looking forward to it.”

Arthur grabbed his coat and car keys. “Now, remember, we don’t want to be too obvious about it, lest Uther realises this is all a set-up. So, try and behave properly nervous and excited about meeting my family.”

“Yes, yes. Got it,” Merlin said irritably. He brushed past Arthur towards the front door of the flat. “Come on, let’s go.”

Arthur smirked, bemused. “Merlin,” he said. “I’m the one who gives the orders, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Merlin nodded once, very seriously. “You ready? Let’s go.”

Merlin was perfect for the job, but also cheeky and exasperating, which was making Arthur want to crawl in his bed and never come out again. This night couldn’t be over soon enough.

*

Uther knew Arthur was bringing a date, but he didn’t immediately connect the dots when Arthur arrived with Merlin.

“Father, I would like you to meet someone.” Arthur took a step back and gestured towards Merlin. “This is Merlin, my boyfriend. Merlin, this is my father, Uther.”

Uther turned a strange shade of red and suddenly Arthur remembered that he had a heart attack not too long ago. God, no. What if he had another one because of Arthur? He really should’ve thought things through a bit better.

Merlin, oblivious to the possible health dangers, went in straight for the kill. He enveloped Uther in his arms, giving him a bear hug, complete with soft shaking and everything.

“So nice to meet you, sir.” He released Uther, giving him a blinding smile. Then he seemed to remember himself and stuttered sheepishly. “I mean, nice to make your acquaintance. Sir.” He made an aborted curtsey.

A moment passed where everyone tried to gather their wits, until Uther turned around and disappeared into the house, leaving them gaping after him.

Merlin arched an eyebrow. “Horrid,” he repeated. “Absolutely. Horrid.”

Arthur thinned his lips, sealing them with an imaginary lock. He wasn’t going to react. He was not. “Let’s go in. Don’t want to keep them waiting, do we?”


	2. Chapter 2

**From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** hunithandbalinoremrys@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** I love you

_You know that, right? I love you so much, and I’m glad that you’re my parents._

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** lookatmeivegotshinyhair@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** I hate you

_I’m never doing you any favours again. Ever._

 

Gwen poked her head around the corner. “Everything alright, Merlin?”

Merlin shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and closed his laptop. Lunch break was over and it was time to get back to work. He stood up and followed Gwen towards the lab, swallowing the last bits of cheese. “You know that ad Gwaine made? About being a pretend boyfriend to torture family members of anyone asking him?”

“Yes,” she said. “Didn’t he ask you to go in his place?”

“Begged me, you mean,” Merlin snorted. Too bad Merlin couldn’t say no to people who begged him for something, not even when it was Gwaine. Merlin had been convinced that for once he wasn’t going to give in, but then Gwaine had to go and show him the email the guy had sent, pleading to spare him the “humiliation.” Merlin’s resolve had crumbled faster than Hobnobs dunked in tea. “And I was stupid enough to give in.”

“Aw, Merlin.” Gwen rubbed his arm comfortingly, as they entered the lab and washed their hands. “What happened?”

“I’m not saying that what that guy—Arthur—did was okay. His father looked like he was about to have a heart attack!” He put on his gloves and snatched his safety glasses.

“But…?” Gwen prompted.

Merlin sighed. “But his father was a homophobic piece of shit.”

Gwen went to the shelves at the other side of the room to get some petri dishes as he talked, while Merlin took the blood samples they’d gathered.

“He hardly said a word all night. He just kept glaring at Arthur. I guess I should be happy. I earned 50 quid by keeping my mouth shut, eating heavenly food, and simply _being_ there.”

Behind him, Gwen hummed. “So just sit there and be pretty?”

“Basically.”

They both were quiet for a second, concentrating on carefully taking the correct measurements. When Gwen started walking around again, Merlin continued speaking.

“Arthur gave me a lot of instructions on what to say, but I think I could’ve said I was a ginger reindeer spying for the Russian government and not get any reaction.”

“And you’re sure that’s not your wounded gay pride talking?”

Merlin huffed, cleaning the glassware he didn’t need anymore, so his work table would be clean and empty.

“I’m telling you, Gwen, as soon as he realised that I was Arthur’s “boyfriend,” he didn’t so much as glance at me once. I almost get why Arthur reacted to Gwaine’s stupid ad. His father is an ass. But,” he paused, thinking with satisfaction back to the moment when Arthur admitted he’d done a great job and handed him the 50 quid, “I played my part perfectly. Arthur’s boyfriend was oblivious to any and all tension in the room and would love nothing more than be part of the family.” He dropped the fake smile he’d adopted, a pale imitation of the one he’d given Uther at the end of the night which had left his cheeks hurting. “I’m glad I never have to see that man again!”

*

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Dinner

_Dear Merlin,_

_I hate to ask this of you, but my father is unexpectedly throwing another family dinner. As it is to celebrate my step-sister taking over the company, it is a dinner with the whole family, including partners._

_I know I promised you it would just be the one time, but if I were to arrive alone barely a week after having introduced you, Uther would see through the ruse immediately. Would you please accompany me as my pretend boyfriend?_

_Of course I realise I would be in great debt with you. Tell me what you want in return and it’s done._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** NO

_The answer is no._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Dinner

_Dear Merlin,_

_I understand what I’m asking you and believe me, if I were you, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with this mess either._

_The fake relationship wasn’t even my idea to begin with. I was against it, believe it or not. But Uther has done something terrible and this is my only way of getting back at him._

_I swear it’s just this once more. I’ll double the price. Unless you’d rather have something else, of course._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** When is this dinner?

_I’m not saying yes! I’m just… keeping my options open._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Dinner

_Dear Merlin,_

_Dinner’s this Saturday at 7PM. However there’s a lot to discuss beforehand, so I’d like you to come to my apartment by 5PM._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** Urgh, fine

_But then I want to know in what way he’s wronged you so terribly that you would risk him falling dead at your feet when seeing me. Also, why couldn’t you soften the blow a bit? I don’t want to end up in jail for murder!!!_

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Saturday

_Dear Merlin,_

_Why do you think I need you to come two hours in advance? Also, you won’t end up in jail. I have an excellent lawyer._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

*

This time Merlin didn’t hug Uther, but it was a close thing. He wanted to do it just to see the look on his face, but he was playing a role and he was going to give it his everything. Perfect boyfriend Merlin would not hug Uther again. He would have learned his lesson from last time and would stay in line—or at least, what he would think the line was.

He stood before Uther at a respectable distance with his back straight and shook his hand.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Pretend boyfriend Merlin mourned the bad impression he was making and, in his distress, forgot his boundaries once more. He stepped closer and clasped his left hand over Uther’s from where it was already clasped with his right, effectively trapping it in a prison of sweat and a too tight grasp. “I swear I didn’t mean to, but I spilled paint all over my shirt and it’s the only one I have so I called a friend—”

Uther interrupted his stream of words hastily. “Let’s get inside, so we can make up for your tardiness. The other guests are already here; we were awaiting your arrival in the dining room.”

Merlin was cackling with glee at the sour look on Uther’s face. He had to admit that Arthur was something of a genius. The shirt he’d ordered Merlin to wear was a ratty old thing and was in stark contrast to Uther’s tailored striped suit. Who knew that Merlin would start enjoying this?

The house was warm, with the soft familiarity of wood and tapestry. If not for the cold hostility radiating from its owner, it would be a very welcoming home where Merlin could picture himself living.

The dining room was the second door to the left and instead of the laughter a get together with his own family would inevitably create, there was a reserved murmuring coming through the open door. However, when Merlin entered the room, it was full of people, all the chairs at the imposing, antique table occupied, except for the one at Arthur’s right and Uther’s chair at the head.

Merlin dropped himself at Arthur’s side with a loud groan. Immediately everyone’s attention was on him and he waved sheepishly. “Hi everyone. I was just explaining to Uther why I was late. You see,” he began chattering away happily, “I was finishing this painting—a gorgeous portrait, if I say so myself—when I noticed I should be getting ready. So, of course, I dressed myself—did you know I bought a suit especially for this occasion?—and then I realised—”

The blond girl sitting between Arthur and Uther coughed discreetly. Merlin stopped talking and raised his eyebrow at her. “Yeah?”

She frowned and said, “Excuse me. Who are you?”

“Didn’t he say?” Merlin exclaimed incredulously. “Why, I’m Arthur’s boyfriend!” He grinned from ear to ear and took Arthur’s hand, pressing a soft kiss against his fingers. “We met a few months ago. I was in the park to paint this landscape, when suddenly this jogger caught my eye. And guess what? It was Arthur! We hit it off immediately. Love at first sight. Who are you exactly?”

When she didn’t answer, too busy alternating between making wide eyes at Merlin and the older woman sitting across of her, he smiled encouragingly at her. That seemed to do the trick. She lift her chin and said haughtily, “I’m Vivian.”

“Vivian who?” His tone was laced with innocence and curiosity.

She spluttered indignantly. “Vivian Pendragon!”

“I didn’t know Arthur had two sisters! He’s never mentioned you.” He scrunched up his nose in confusion for a moment before clearing his face. “Oh well, nice to meet you anyway.”

Arthur decided to interfere. “Merlin, let me introduce you to the rest of my family. As she’s already told you, this is Vivian, my step-sister.” He gestured towards the woman Vivian had been making faces at. “That is Catrina, Vivian’s mother and Uther’s wife. Then there’s Morgana, my sister as you know, and her husband Leon.”

Merlin studied Morgana shortly. So this was who had the brilliant idea to hire a pretend boyfriend in the first place. On first sight she looked fairly innocent, with her pale face and beautiful long hair, but during Merlin’s display, he’d seen her smirking from the corner of his eyes. He could imagine that she wasn’t as virtuous as Uther wanted to believe.

“Morgana, so nice to meet you! Arthur has told me so much about you, I feel like I already know you.”

Before he could go on a roll again, their food was brought out to be served.

“Since there’s been some delay,”—Uther looked pointedly somewhere in the distinct vicinity of Merlin—“I suggest we just get started with the meal already.” He smiled magnanimously at everyone. “Dig in.”

Merlin scooped some risotto in his mouth and moaned. “This is great! Almost as good as what my Mom used to make. It’s been ages since I tasted something like it.”

After that he shut up, but he was everything but silent. He was either smacking his lips together, moaning softly, or gulping down his wine.

Arthur chuckled faintly. “Dear, it’s very hard to work out if you’re eating or inhaling the lamb.”

“Oops, sorry.” He grinned embarrassedly and “tried” to eat with less noise, but with as much gusto.

He was scraping his plate empty long before the others and filled the rest of the time by drinking the expensive Bordeaux. Arthur had told him not to keep himself in check and Merlin wasn’t planning on it. It wasn’t every day that he got the chance to dine so extravagantly.

When everyone was done and had dipped their mouths clean with a linen napkin, Uther raised his glass.

“I propose a toast to Vivian. Congratulations on your new position as CEO of Pendragon Industries. I couldn’t be prouder of your achievements so far and I’m sure you will do great things as the head of the company and continue to bring honour to our family. To Vivian!”

Ouch, that must hurt. Only Catrina and Vivian herself repeated “To Vivian” with genuine enthusiasm. Morgana, Leon, and Arthur were much more subdued, exchanging sad glances all around. Merlin winced.

He knew he shouldn’t—he’d already had too much, to be honest—but Arthur looked so pitiful and it was the only thing he could think of to cheer him up a bit. With revenge in mind he drained his freshly refilled glass and burped loudly. He giggled drunkenly and muttered, “Oops.” While everyone was still watching, he laid his hand on Arthur’s thigh and squeezed. He didn’t take it away.

The attention was momentarily diverted away from Vivian and Morgana saw this as her chance to help Merlin along. “Earlier you said you were painting. Is that what you do to earn your money? Or do you have another job?”

“Oh no, I don’t ‘have another job.’ ” He laughed at the notion and waved it away with his right hand. “No, I’m just a painter.”

“I see. Interesting. Do you have a gallery somewhere where I could see your work?”

Crap, more lies. While he clearly wasn’t averse to lying for a good cause, or to avenge Arthur, he was terrible at making up lies at the spot. But apparently he was on a roll tonight because he had come up with a brilliant idea.

“I work at home and am commission based. Unfortunately, the lighting there is shite, since I couldn’t afford some place else, and it’s in a bad neighbourhood, so usually people don’t feel compelled to visit me.”

“A real struggling artist,” Arthur added a bit sarcastically. Luckily his tone seemed to bypass Uther. Merlin rubbed his hand on Arthur’s leg up and down to shut him up. It worked.

“That’s why me and Arthur, we’ve been talking about moving in together.”

Uther choked on his spit. “What?”

“I know, isn’t it sweet?” Merlin fluttered his eyelashes at Arthur.

“But you’ve only just met each other!” Uther looked over at Catrina for support, but she kept her mouth wisely shut. If Merlin’s guess was right, it didn’t matter to her at all whether Arthur threw his money and life away for a beggar.

“What meaning does time have when you’re so sure of your love for someone? Because I do love him. In fact, I’m utterly crazy about him.” He leaned his weight into Arthur’s side and rubbed his nose affectionately against Arthur’s cheek. He pulled away after a moment and became serious again. “And I seriously need the space. It’s not only the lighting and the neighbourhood.”

Uther’s voice took on a sharp quality. “No? Please do tell me, why else would you move in with my son?”

“The space, of course! I’m a member of several clubs and there’s the occasional meeting at my home to make pamphlets or decide on who’s going to do what.”

Morgana piped in again. “Clubs? What kind of clubs?”

“Oh, all sorts. There’s the one for gay rights, plus I’m an active supporter of the Labour Party. There was also the WWF for a while, but they were a bit too intense for me.”

Uther began coughing very loudly. Catrina rubbed his back in a soothing motion, but Uther didn’t stop before his whole face was as red as a beet.

Arthur clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Dessert!”

Everyone agreed enthusiastically and right on cue the help appeared with their moelleux au chocolat.

Ignoring the rules of etiquette, Catrina talked throughout the meal, no doubt in an attempt to get Merlin to shut up. He complied though as his throat was dry from all his previous talking. Instead he steadily drained his wine, all the while listening to Vivian being praised for all her accomplishments.

Uther only ate part of his dessert and wasted no time in joining Catrina with the praise. “Indeed, Vivian has realised some great feats, for example, her victory in the Mercia case. I was sure they’d choose Du Bois, but Vivian waltzed in, made them forget all about the competition, charming them all smoothly, and in no time the deal was ours.”

Merlin could feel Arthur tense up more and more under his hand that was still resting on Arthur’s leg. He had enough; it was time to end this ridiculous dinner and go home.

He licked his spoon clean and said sweetly, “It must be so nice having your father supporting you, Vivian.”

Her icy demeanor seemed to thaw a little and she opened her mouth, undoubtedly to express her superiority, but Merlin stepped in to steal her spotlight rather dramatically. His voice was grave when he continued.

“I’ve never known the feeling. I mean, my mother was very supportive, but it’s not the same as having a father at your side, is it? Not that I would know, of course, because I never had a father. He left as soon as he realised there was a bun in the oven.”

Uther paled and started shaking ever so slightly. Merlin ignored him and ploughed on bravely.

“My mother was broken-hearted, but s-she loved me like no one else and I loved her. All that mattered was that we had each other.”

Wine always made him teary-eyed and he used it to his advantage to squeeze out a few tears.

“But she’s dead now and I’m left with–with no one.”

His voice broke and Morgana reached over the table to pat his hand, but her eyes were shining with mirth. He burst out in tears and buried his face in Arthur’s neck, hugging the crap out of him. Concentrated on crying loudly, he was unable to say any more.

Arthur rubbed him awkwardly on the back and murmured, “There you go. Shh, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here, I’m right here for you.” He raised his voice to address the rest of the group. “I’m afraid Merlin has had a bit too much of the Sauvignon. It’s probably best I take him home.”

Merlin didn’t loosen his death grip on him as Arthur tried to get up. Though he did an admirable job of getting the both of them upwards and slung Merlin’s arm over his shoulder, wrapping his own around Merlin’s waist.

Although Merlin was exaggerating his drunkenness, he was more than grateful for the support. The ground was moving quickly under his feet and he clung to Arthur, trusting him not to drop him.

Morgana rushed to her feet and fetched Arthur’s jacket. “You take care him of, yeah?” She opened the door and Arthur and Merlin left the party at least one hour early. Not bad, not bad at all.

As soon as Arthur helped Merlin into his seat and was clambering behind the steering wheel, Merlin burst out in snickers.

“Stop it! They could still be watching,” Arthur hissed, but Merlin could hear the smile in his voice.

Merlin tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably. He leaned back in the leather seat and stretched out his legs. “God, poor Morgana and Leon, left all on their own with those people.”

“Don’t feel too bad for them,” Arthur said dryly. “We needed the rescue more. _I_ needed you more.”

Merlin’s mouth went dry and he went silent, ignoring the fluttering in his belly.

“Wanna come up to my apartment for a nightcap or two? The night’s still young, and I’ve got the good stuff.”

Merlin nodded dumbly and together they drove off.

*

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** Your couch is crap

_Seriously, I think I broke my back._

**  
** **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Couch

_Dear Merlin,_

_This is a friendly reminder that it was_ you _who decided to pass out on my couch, not me._

 _Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** I didn’t pass out!

_I merely closed my eyes for a second and accidentally fell asleep. Besides, it looked all soft and welcoming._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Couch

_Dear Merlin,_

_Closing your eyes in the middle of a conversation is considered rude._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** It’s not rude if your conversation partner is a prat

_And you’re changing the subject. You’re paying for the massage I’m sorely in need of.  And now that I think of it, you owe me 100 quid._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Payment

_Dear Merlin,_

_So I do. You’re welcome to collect the money this weekend._

_Greetings,  
Arthur_

*

“So this is the famous Elena,” Merlin said.

The blonde woman nodded and embraced him. He liked her already. “Are you sure you want to elope with Gwaine and not me? We could go to Antarctica to cuddle with penguins and have a proper white Christmas.”

She guffawed and slapped his arm hard. “Thanks for the offer, but nothing is better than Japan, not even cute penguins. Or those adorable puppy eyes.”

Merlin dropped his fake pout and clasped hands with Gwaine, who used the leverage to grab him by the neck and ruffle his hair.

“I’ll buy you some Japanese porn. Now that I’m not going to be here to make sure you get laid, you’re going to need it.”

A blush crept up his neck and ears and Merlin ducked his head. “Shuddup. Just email me when you get there? And Elena, please try to keep him out of trouble. I hear Japanese jails are the worst.”

Elena nodded seriously. “Will do.”

*

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Christmas

_Dear Merlin,_

_Do you by any chance have plans for Christmas?_

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** Why are you asking?

_But no, I don’t have any plans._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Christmas

_Dear Merlin,_

_It just occurred to me I have yet another family dinner at Uther’s on Christmas. This is the last time, I swear, but would you please come with me? Again, the whole family is invited with their partners._

_After this, there are no more holidays for a while and then things will be back to normal. By the time you would need to show up again, an acceptable amount of time would have passed for it to be believable that we have broken up._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** NO NO AND NO

_No._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Christmas

_Dear Merlin,_

_I’d do anything. Just tell me what I need to do for you to change your mind._

_Greetings,_ _  
Arthur_

 

 **From:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**To:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**Subject:** I’m not doing it

_And that is my final answer. Arthur, I like you, but don’t ruin it by pressing the matter._

 

 **From:** pendragonarthur@pendragonindustries.org.uk  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** Christmas

_Dear Merlin,_

_Although it saddens me, I accept your decision. I wish you a Merry Christmas in advance._

_Greetings,_ _  
_Arthur__

*

Merlin grunted in satisfaction. It was one week before Christmas and he’d just finished his last working day before the holidays.

He was taking a month off to laze about unashamedly. No dutiful visits, no one who would dare to come a-knocking unexpectedly, and no obligations whatsoever.

It was his first holiday since he’d started working at the lab and he was going to spend it in whatever way he wished to. It was going to be the. Best. Holiday. Ever.

*

 **From:** arthur_pendragon@hotmail.com  
**To:** yerawizardmerlin@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** (NO SUBJECT)

_She fired me._

*

As Merlin arrived well in time for the party, for the first time in a week a sense of calmness settled over him. He’d been running from pillar to post, but in the end, he’d gotten everything done, and right in time.

Uther lifted a brow when he saw Merlin standing before him in his new suit. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to avoid being late again,” Merlin said, entering the hallway.

“I’m sure you did,” Uther muttered and disappeared through a door to the right.

Merlin made his way towards the dining room, where a fire was burning in the hearth. That was the only sign that this was a special occasion, unless Vivian and Catrina could be counted as decoration too, but that might be impolite. They were dressed respectively in a silver and a golden dress with glittery sequins. Both women were wearing jewellery in every visible place, but nothing was quite as striking as Catrina's golden ring with a heavy green stone sat atop. The result was blinding and Merlin turned his eyes away, looking down at his lap and running his hands over the creases in his trousers.

The three of them sat in a tense silence for an absurd amount of time until Uther returned with Morgana and Leon in tow.

“Merlin! So good to see you again.” Morgana walked towards him and kissed him on the cheeks, suffocating him in a cloud of perfume. She blatantly ignored Vivian and Catrina and proceeded to ask him how he’d been, while Leon escorted her to her seat with a protective hand low on her back.

“Okay, I guess?” He was a bit distracted by the low cut of her dress. It was a vivid green, matching her eyes and Leon’s tie. There was a soft golden shawl draped over her arms, and a subtle amount of make up with the the same golden glow on her eyelids. On closer inspection Merlin could see that Leon’s cufflinks were gold as well and that there was a thread in his windsor tie of the same colour. They made for a stunning couple.

“Why didn’t you and Arthur arrive together?”

Because Merlin had suggested so, seeing as he was going to do something without consulting Arthur; the perfect retribution that could also go wrong if Arthur ended up hating it. If that happened, he wanted to be able to flee the scene as fast as possible without being dependant on Arthur to bring him home. “I had an appointment with someone, so I didn’t know if I’d make it in time. But as it turns out, I could make a quick escape.”

He expected Uther to make a disparaging comment about Arthur being the one who was late, but _that_ side of the table remained silent. Morgana, Leon, and Merlin were ignoring them anyway.

The help served them drinks, but when everyone got sparkling champagne and Catrina some sort of juice, he gave Merlin a glass of water. Merlin furrowed his brow and sipped reluctantly after Uther’s toast.

Then Arthur appeared in crumpled clothes and with bags under his eyes. He barely acknowledged anyone except for Merlin, whom he greeted with a relieved, “You came.”

Merlin’s hands shook slightly as he stood up even before Arthur could get seated. He wiped them on his trousers and coughed. Immediately he had everyone’s attention.

He took Arthur’s hands in his and blinked a few times. “A-Arthur.”

“Yes…?”

“I know how important your father is to you, and everyone has been so welcoming to me that I, too, already feel like I’m part of this family.” A truth and a lie to keep things in balance. “We haven’t been together for long, but ever since I saw you for the first time, I’ve been head over heels for you.”

“Oh God, no,” Arthur whispered. “This is _not_ happening.” And this was why he couldn’t tell Arthur about his plan. This—the paling of his face, the clear surprise is in his eyes, his obvious uncertainty at what he should do, his insecure stance—this could not be acted. The shock had to be real.

“The last few months have been nothing but amazing, and you make me happier than I ever was before.” He took the small box out of his pocket and fumbled to get it open. His nervousness was very real, too. “Arthur, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Finally the box was open and, belatedly, Merlin went down on one knee, raising the box with the silver band in it. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Christ, this was nerve-racking and the worst of it all was that he still had no idea what Arthur would say. Even if the proposal was just for show, a "no" would crush him. He was doing this for Arthur, but if the hand he was extending would be denied, it would kill the hope that had silently, and without his permission, started to bloom.

Arthur took the box out of his hands shakingly and gaped at it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times and looked at Merlin in wonder and amazement before pulling him up. “Yes. Ha! Of course, Merlin, yes. Yes!”

Suddenly his mouth was pressed against Arthur’s, and his heart came to an abrupt stop. Arthur started moving his lips and the feeling zinged the rest of his nerves. A warmth ran over his spine and spread throughout his whole body, the only cold spot, strangely, where Arthur’s wet mouth met his dry one.

Merlin moaned and Arthur clutched him tighter. He lifted his fingers to stroke Arthur’s cheekbone and then hesitatingly moved them lower, towards his neck and shoulder. Stubbles grazed at his fingers and then made place for smooth skin covered by a shirt and vest.

Arthur gripped him with punishing strength against his strong chest, and Merlin was overcome by desire. He struggled to free himself before he came in front of Arthur’s whole family, lips parting lastly.

“No!” Uther got up and walked around the table towards them. “Arthur, you will stop this madness now. This foolery has gone on for long enough.”

“Father—” Arthur started, but Merlin stopped him with a light touch on his arm.

“Don’t you see, Uther?” he said. “This is perfect. Now that you’re having a child with Catrina, your bloodline is ensured for another generation. Arthur didn’t become CEO, so he’s not responsible for the homophobic reputation of your firm, and since he no longer has a job, we can go on a honeymoon for as long as we want. There is literally no better moment, no time more ideal than this, for us to get married.”

He took the velvet red box out of Arthur’s hand and pulled the ring out of the foam. He took Arthur’s right hand in his and looked at Arthur for permission.

Arthur gave a single nod, and the ring was slipped onto his finger. Merlin brought the hand to his lips and kissed each finger reverently. Afterwards, he didn’t let go, but stood hand in hand with Arthur before Uther.

“I should thank you. If Arthur’s situation wasn’t the way it is now, I would’ve never had the courage to ask him.” Uther bristled, and Merlin said once more, in the sincerest tone, “Thank you.”

Arthur regained his voice. “Merlin and I are going to celebrate elsewhere, somewhere more…private.”

Merlin was dying inside at the look on Uther’s face. Shock, disbelief, rage… Afraid he might burst out laughing, he pressed his lips together and saluted Morgana and Leon, who were doing an admirable job of keeping their emotions in check. He would give a penny for their thoughts. Were they as ecstatic as he at the vengeance, or were they too taken aback by the turn of events to fully appreciate it right now? Or was Morgana more innocent than he’d assumed, and would she think he’d taken things too far? He would have to ask Arthur later.

They hurried outside and jumped in Arthur’s car. “Where to now?” he asked Arthur, beaming now that the elation of what happened had definitely taken over.

“I suggest we go to my place to really celebrate Christmas, fiancé mine.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I have a giant...Christmas tree.”

“I can’t wait to admire it properly.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback welcome.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Never a Dull Moment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6820156) by [GeekLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLover/pseuds/GeekLover)




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